Hey Folks! Hope your summer is going well and that you are healthy, happy and safe. I've been busy as you might guess and I thought I'd send you my Notes from the Road to fill you in. Read on for the following:
1) The new album, Blacktop Road, is in the news!
2) What's happening at my mountain home in West Virginia?
3) A tale from long ago in Lake County, FL
Read on!
Early Reviews of Blacktop Road Are In!
The Orlando Weekly has led the way with the first full review of the new album, Blacktop Road. Long time music critic and This Little Underground columnist, Bao Le-Huu, published his take on the album in his column on August 11, 2026. He writes, "The Americana of Blacktop Road comes from a folk tradition near to the roots and has little to do with pop-gentrified commodities like The Lumineers. It’s got the kind of rural heart that comes from actual country people, not the lifestyle caricatures of the Nashville industrial complex. . . . Spears’ style radiates gentlemanly grace and John Denver-esque soul. Although his voice and material lead, the songs on Blacktop Road are filled out instrumentally and harmonically by longtime collaborators The Florida Cracker Collective. Shawled in a gentle string-band tapestry, Spears sings of life, lore and landscapes with an ever-present sense of native heritage. Among soft acoustic guitars, the finespun sway of mandolins and the crisp pluck of banjos, he waxes lovingly, bringing a present tense to an old-time ethos that seems largely bygone."
Other critics have weighed in as well. Reviewing the single, Small Town Thing, for the A&R Factory blog, Amelia Vandergast writes, "“His voice carries the natural ease of someone who has spent more than 35 years earning audiences . . . he exemplifies the best of Americana folk . . .” In Apple Podcasts, Orlando News Today / Daily News Now reports, "Blacktop Road—a soulful, roots-deep ode to homegrown Americana that feels both timeless and freshly lived. Unlike today’s pop-tinged folk acts, Spears’ sound is pure, unvarnished country heart, steeped in the soil of Central Florida before it became a tourist playground. Backed by his band The Florida Cracker Collective, his smooth, John Denver-esque voice floats over acoustic guitars, mandolins, and banjos, weaving tales of local life and landscape with quiet grace." Finally, The Ark of Music writes, "These are the kinds of songs that would easily top the charts if sung by The Carpenters or Dolly Parton: heartwarming, sentimental, emotive, and capturing a true sense of art in each and every bar. . . . Blacktop Road is a seamless, spotless addition to Doug’s discography that’s bound to enchant Americana listeners from start to finish."
Have you ordered your copy yet? Do it now! Order Blacktop Road. The Deluxe Edition includes the 40 page book with the stories behind the songs, the full lyrics, detailed band bios, pics, etc. with the CD mounted inside the back cover. Or, if you just want the CD, it can also be ordered in a standard four panel wallet. You pick!
Here in West Virginia
You might know (or you might not) that each year from late April to mid October I flee from the punishing heat and humidity of my native Florida and take refuge in the mountains of north central West Virginia on the banks of the Cheat River. I call it our "hummingbird season." We're outside of a little town called Parsons (pop. 1350), which is the county seat of Tucker County. If you look a map of WV, there's a deep "V" cut in the top of the state. At the point of that V is Tucker County, home to the Canaan Valley ski area, Blackwater Falls and more. Tucker County has TWO, count them, TWO stoplights and Parsons has one of them! Yep, we're talking small, rural, low traffic, quiet, peaceful.
So just how, in the name of all that is holy, did a down home Florida Cracker boy find himself in a tiny little place in northern West by gawd Virginia? Well, I'll tell ya. Back when I was touring, slinging songs and stories all over eastern half of the country, one of my annual stops was to The Purple Fiddle, a terrific listening room in Thomas, WV, also in Tucker County. I was there one night back around 2008 or 2009 that a local fan made a comment to me about the coming winter weather that eventually inspired my song When the Humminbirds Return that is included on the new album, Blacktop Road. I fell in love with the natural beauty of the area and the warm, kind people who call it home. I'm fortunate now to spend part of every year here.
While I generally consider this my "down time" when I write a bit more and take time for other pursuits (I build small furniture items in my workshop, play golf with a great group of guys at a local, county owned course, mow the 4-5 acres around the house and barn, etc.), this year I've been a bit busier musically. I do a monthly show up in Davis, WV at Wicked Wilderness Pub & Parlor on the second Wednesday of the month. Back in June, a couple of us did a free show downtown in Parsons for the folks here (pic above). In July I went down to The Arts Center in Elkins, WV (wow! what a beautiful facility!) to perform in their Brown Bag Concert series (you can see a clip of that show featuring a new song, The Right Lane, on my YouTube Channel). Earlier this month I was in Morgantown at the West Virginia Botanic Garden (another AMAZING venue) in their Summer Concert Series. In September I'll run down to Roanoke, VA to 3rd Street Coffeehouse in the basement of the Trinity UMC for a show in their concert series. Then in October, just before I head home, I'll do a show in the historic train depot back here in Parsons courtesy of the Tucker County Historical Society. No rest for the wicked!
But I do still take time for the neighbors who come to call and show off their twins.
A Tale from Lake County Florida
Not Going Down With the Ship!
This took place outside of Leesburg in Lake County, Florida, back around 1964 or so. No names have been changed to embarrass the guilty. Claude Spears was my dad's younger brother by sixteen months and the uncle who I was closest to growing up. In his first quarter at the University of Florida when he was not quite 18 years old, he dove into the university swimming pool, struck another swimmer and broke his neck. The accident left him paralyzed from the chest down and he spent nearly two years in rehab (no insurance mind you) before he could return home to the farm near Leesburg. Though sheer determination, courage and stubbornness, he carved out a life for himself on the family farm and used good ol' cracker ingenuity to make sure he could participate in the usual country boy activities. Though he was unable to use his fingers, a surgery in rehab gave him the ability to grip with his left hand by cocking his wrist. This allowed him to use a hoe, hold a fishing rod, etc. I spent many, many hours hunting and fishing with Uncle Claude and serving as his hands for farm chores. Summers we were nearly inseparable.
Not wanting Claude to be limited to fishing the shallow ponds around the farm, granddaddy acquired an Orlando Clipper fiberglass boat with a 60 horsepower Gale outboard motor. Now, you don't just roll a wheelchair up into one of those. He had a local handyman create a fiberglass pedestal in the center of the boat and mounted a swiveling bucket seat, complete with seat belt, on it. Next, we hung a big chain hoist in an oak tree down by the tractor shed. We'd hoist Uncle Claude up in the tree on the chain hoist, back the boat under him, set him in that bucket seat, buckle him up and roar off to the lake. If I'm lyin' I'm dyin'! We'd run 20-30 minutes at 40-60 mph, Claude with his back turned to the wind, waving to whoever might honk or holler as we passed. What happened if it rained? Well, Uncle Claude got wet!
This particular day we were going bream and shellcracker fishing on Lake Harris. southeast of Leesburg, using the old boat ramp off of highway 27. Dad was driving the truck and was a bit impatient (his normal state back in those days) as we had gotten a late start. He swung into the parking lot and jumped out, ordering me to hold the bow line of the boat While he backed the boat (and, of course, Uncle Claude) into the water. I took my designated position and he started the boat down into the water. All seemed to be going smoothly . . . at first.
Suddenly, Uncle Claude began screaming in terror! I'M SINKING, I'M SINKING, YOU DIDN'T PUT IN THE DAMNED DRAIN PLUG!! There were some other short, vulgar words, phrases and epitaphs in there that I need not repeat. Water was flooding into the bottom of the boat around his motionless feet through the open drain hole in the transom and Uncle Claude was NOT going to go down with the ship. You might say he was apoplectic - hollering and waving his arms around like a Saturday morning cartoon!
What did dad and I do? Well, it took us a while to get up off the ground and catch our breath from laughing so hard! You see, it wasn't quite the emergency that Uncle Claude was making out. Understand, the boat is still hooked to the truck and can't actually "sink" as it is still sitting on the boat trailer on the concrete boat ramp. All we have to do is pull forward, let the water drain back out, put the plug in (as we should have done in the first place) and all is well. Uncle Claude did not see it that way. To say he was not AT ALL amused would be a VAST understatement. We must have told that story a thousand times at family gatherings over the years and Uncle Claude never laughed once!
That's All Folks! If you've gotten this far and are still reading I am SO grateful. See you soon and, remember, - It's not how far you've come, but what you've done with the miles. All the Best!